Page 28 of Over My Dead Boss
“I don’t know. Kevin from Home Alone after the second time she forgets about him?”
His haunting laugh adds to the already stunning surroundings and I have to work over-time to suppress the intrusive thoughts it brings up.
“Fair enough. The worst thing my mom ever did was probably making me go to bed by 8 o’clock. Granted, I was only five, but still.” The memories of his past seem to bring out his original accent a lot more than usual.
“Oh, the injustice,” I say decidedly. “So you were closer to your mom than to your dad?”
“Naturally. Mom cared about me a lot. I wish we would have had more time together. It was actually her who made me want to become an author. She would read to me for hours when I was younger, anything I wanted. Unless it was past 8 PM, of course.” Another woeful laugh. “She didn’t really care about business, legacy and all that.”
We sit in silence for a moment until I check my watch. “Well, Mr. Cyrus, what else? Better get it all out before you run out of your allotted Grumpy Time.”
“You calling me by my last name. I’ll be grumpy about that for a moment.”
“Excuse me for trying to be professional,” I retort and stick out my tongue to undermine my own point, and to get another laugh out of him.
“Professional, right. You’re a bit of a walking contradiction, aren’t you, kid?”
“I contain multitudes, Phoenix. It’s what makes me charming. That and my need to be liked, of course.”
He chuckles and bites down on his lip for a moment. “That sounds more like it would make you desperate. Wanna talk about it? Have you allotted some time for your therapy sessions in there?” Phoenix points at my planner.
“I’ll see if I can fit that in somewhere, but now we are scheduled to have dinner before reading time, which was supposed to last until we go to bed, but I’m thinking I should cut you off at eight.”
“Scheduled dinner time. I mean, I knew we were a married couple, but I didn’t know we were anoldmarried couple.”
16
“Well, I supposeImarried someone old,” I reply as we move to the kitchen. “Old, rich and… you do have a long history of illness, don’t you?”
Phoenix snickers as he closes the door behind me. “Actually, I can’t remember, but that might just be my Alzheimers.”
Despite Dog’s incessant tries to distract us from cooking, we eventually manage to make a meal that we eat in silence.Probably because we’re missing the romantic candlelight,I think to myself. But it’s ok. It’s probably better this way. The food is delicious as always and I wish I could keep him as my personal chef. Once we’re finished, both of us take a seat on opposite sites of his oversized couch with our books. The weather has turned rather cold tonight but before I actually begin to freeze, and without me saying a word, Phoenix gets up and throws more wood into the fire. My eyes fall onto the almost empty pile of lumber and I rejoice at the prospect of him having to chop more tomorrow.I should probably put that in his schedule. Lots and lots of physical work.A cozy blanket is dropped on my head from behind when he returns to his seat, and I think I could get used to the attentive Phoenix Cyrus in a second. I ask for his feedback on the day and we estimate he has written close to 5000 words.
“I don’t recall writing this much in months.”
“That’s good,” I agree. “Unless it’s just my name written over and over again. Then maybe we have to think of alternative plans to finish your book.”
Phoenix ignores my comment and, without giving it a second thought, makes sure the blanket properly covers my feet by wrapping them up like a mermaid’s tail. His soft hands grace my legs and I try to not break out into laughter due to being tickled. Or into a sweat from the touch of his bare skin against mine.
I wonder if he should be doing this. Should he be tugging me into blankets, cooking meals for me? Should he—
“I am not quite at that stage yet,” he interrupts my thoughts. “If I ever get there, promise to put me down, ok?”
“I could put you down right now if you want me to,” I answer and am interrupted by my phone buzzing. It’s a text from Sienna and there’s already five messages and three calls from Isabella that I must have missed earlier.That can’t be good.I panic at the prospect of finally being unemployed.I should have worked harder to get the manuscript.
Isabella: Oliviaaaaaaaaa
Isabella: OLIVIAAAAAAAA
Isabella: OLIVIA GAAAY
Isabella: I need oyu to come back to work. Vernas been annoing me.. You might be 2 dumb to get me coffee right but at least you dont wear hot pink to the office or listen to true crim podcasts on speaker while woking or ask me if its ok to go home early cos your children are dying.
Isabella: The usual pls. 2x. My husband is here. Waylon. We married.
I sigh heavily. One, because I am relieved that I’m not getting fired… yet. Two, because I am worried I might get Verna fired who definitely doesn’t deserve this treatment. Three, because goddamnit she needs to stop drinking. And she needs to stop texting me.
Alright, first things first, there is something I can do to lift her mood (something that her husband seems to be incapable of). I open my contacts and call her favorite restaurant, hoping that she’s at home and not at the office, and have them deliver her usual order of stuffed lobster tails. Next, I text her back to smooth the waters.
